Ghost Hunt 2: MORE Chilling Tales of the Unknown (18 page)

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Authors: Jason Hawes,Grant Wilson

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BOOK: Ghost Hunt 2: MORE Chilling Tales of the Unknown
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Even though the room was dark, Lyssa could see Eloise’s face by the light of the streetlamp outside. Those blue eyes seemed to hover in the air. Watching. Waiting.

All of a sudden, Lyssa shivered. She remembered Angie talking about how cold it was in her dream.

“It seems a lot colder in here,” Lyssa said. She knew that a drop in temperature could mean a spirit had entered the room.

“It is cold. I feel it, too,” Grant said. “Why don’t you try to establish contact?”

“All right.” Lyssa swallowed past a big lump in her throat.

“My name is Lyssa, and this is Grant,” she said. “We’d like to make contact with the spirit of Eloise Cavanaugh. Eloise, if you’re here, would you give us a sign?” She thought about what Angie said had happened in the dream. “Can you make the window shade roll up?”

Lyssa paused. The air got even colder, and thick and threatening, the way it did right before a thunderstorm. Except this felt even worse, as if something terrible was coming toward them. Lyssa’s chest felt tight. She could feel her heart begin to pound.

She forced herself to go on. “We don’t want to disturb you, Mrs. Cavanaugh.”

Maybe Eloise didn’t like being called by her first name. The woman was quite old when she died. Maybe she expected more respect.

“We just want to understand what’s going on. Angie Larson, the young woman living here, is very frightened. Can you help us help her? Can you give us a sign to let us know you’re here?”

WHUMP!

Lyssa jumped at the sudden sound, then spun toward it. Her flashlight danced crazily across the living room wall. She was just in time to see the pull-down shade in the center window shoot up to the top of the window frame.

“Whoa,” Grant said.

WHUMP! THUMP!

One by one, all the other window shades in the room began to roll up. They spun around and around, whacking against the tops of the window frames.

This time the sound was so loud that Lyssa wanted to cover her ears.

“This is just what Angie said happened in this room in her dreams,” Grant said.

Lyssa could feel her breath coming in and out in short, quick gasps. When she exhaled, her breath made white clouds. Lyssa’s fingers ached—either from the cold or from gripping the flashlight so tightly.

“What do we do now?”

Before Grant could answer, there was a scream from upstairs.

“No.
No. NO!

“That’s Angie!” Lyssa cried as she spun toward the sound.

Lyssa raced out of the living room. Grant was right behind her. At the bottom of the stairs, they met up with Jason and Mark.

“Where’s Angie?” Lyssa asked. She started up the stairs, calling out as she climbed. “Jen and Mike, are you with Angie? What’s going on up there? Is everything all right?”

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay, Lyssa,” Angie’s voice called down. She appeared at the top of the stairs with Jen and Mike on either side of her. “I had another dream, and I…”

All of a sudden, Angie began to sob.

Lyssa rushed to Angie’s side and put her arms around her.

“I saw her, Lyssa,” Angie sobbed. “I really
saw
her this time. Eloise Cavanaugh. She was standing right beside my bed, looking down at me. She hates me. She hates me so much. I could see it in her eyes. She held her hands out.”

“She held her hands out?” Lyssa repeated, puzzled.

“Yes.” Angie took a deep breath. “She held them out and then she lowered them over my throat. She was going to strangle me. That’s when I screamed.”

Angie pressed her hand over her mouth to hold back another sob. When she spoke again, her voice was strangely quiet.

“Now I know what she wants. Eloise Cavanaugh wants to kill me!”

“That’s not going to happen,” Lyssa soothed her. “You’re okay. We’re here with you now.”

“But you won’t stay,” Angie said. “And she’ll try again. And sooner or later whatever happens in the dream will happen for real. I just know it. Eloise Cavanaugh is going to strangle me. And I won’t be able to stop her.”

“Come downstairs, please, everyone,” Jason called out. “Let’s regroup.”

With one arm still around Angie’s waist, Lyssa started down the stairs. Halfway down, she stopped.

“Listen,” she said, her voice intent.

“What? I don’t hear anything,” Mark said.

“That’s what I mean,” Lyssa answered. “The window shades in the living room. They’ve stopped.”

“You’re right,” Jason said. “You’re absolutely right. Command Center. Everyone. Now.”

“I’m trying to be brave. I honestly am,” Angie said when they’d all gathered in the Command Center, in the dining room. The house was still dark. The only light in the room came from the row of computer monitors.

Angie sat in one of the dining room chairs, twisting her hands together in her lap. Lyssa knelt by her side.

“I’m scared. I’m just so scared,” she said. “I’m not sure I can take much more of this. I just don’t understand why Eloise hates me so much. I haven’t done anything to her! All I’m trying to do is live in the house.”

“Maybe that’s just it,” Lyssa said slowly. “Maybe it isn’t
you
at all. Maybe it’s just that Eloise thinks there’s a stranger in her home.”

Angie shook her head. “I’m no stranger. I’m Ellen’s friend. I even visited this house when Ellen lived here.”

“You’re not a blood relation,” Mark explained. “Which might be why Eloise thinks that you don’t have a right to be here.”

“But I love this house!” Angie protested. “I’ll take good care of it, if only she’ll let me.” She gave a long sigh. “I wish I could tell her so.”

“Maybe you can,” Grant said.

“What?”

“As part of our investigations, we often try to make contact with a spirit,” Grant explained. “Lyssa and I did this in the living room and got a pretty big response. We definitely got Eloise Cavanaugh’s attention. And she’s definitely got yours. Maybe it’s time for
you
to try to get hers.”

Angie sat still for several moments. Then she gave Lyssa’s hand a quick squeeze and stood up. She didn’t look so frightened now. Instead, she looked determined.

“You’re right,” she said. “Maybe it’s time I had a talk with her.”

“Outstanding,” Grant said. “Let’s give this a try.”

 

A little while later, Lyssa and Angie were sitting side by side on the couch. The fireplace was directly in front of them. Eloise’s portrait hung right above it.

Grant and Jason sat in chairs on either side of the couch. They had pulled the window shades down. The Hammond twins were back upstairs, continuing to investigate the second floor. Jen was in the Command Center, keeping an eye on everyone.

“Okay,” Grant said. “Here’s the way I’d like to proceed. Lyssa will try to establish contact. She may get a response. She may
not. But then she’ll introduce you, Angie, and you can say what’s on your mind.”

“Remember that ghosts are just people,” Jason put in. “Talk to her directly and politely.”

“Okay,” Angie said. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She shook her head. “I still don’t understand how you guys can do this all the time.”

“Go ahead, then, Lyssa. You begin,” Jason said.

Lyssa sat up a little straighter on the couch. “This is Lyssa,” she said in a clear, polite voice. “We spoke once before. There’s someone with me who would like to speak to you, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Her name is Angie Larson. She’s the young woman living in your house.”

“I’m getting a little EMF change, but not much,” Jason murmured in a low voice. “Go ahead, Angie.”

“Hello?” Angie said. She cleared her throat. “My name is Angie, and I… I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered to Lyssa. “I feel so stupid. How do I know if she hears me or not?”

“You’re doing fine,” Lyssa said. “You might not know. Lots of times, we don’t get an answer. That doesn’t mean we stop trying. Just keep at it.”

“Some things have been happening lately that really scare me,” Angie went on. “I don’t know whether you’re making them happen or not. But maybe you can make them stop.

“I’m sorry if you’re upset that I’m living in your house,” Angie continued. “Your house is really beautiful. I can see why you love it so much. I promise that I will take really good care of it. Can we find a way to live here together? It’s just for a year. Then Ellen will come back…”

She took a deep breath, held it for a minute, then let it out.

“I think that’s all I wanted to say.”

They waited a good ten minutes. But there was no answer.

“Okay,” Jason said. “Let’s call it a night.”

 

After her attempt to talk to Eloise Cavanaugh, Angie went back to bed in the spare room. The TAPS team continued investigating throughout the night. There were no other incidents.

Now it was a bright, sunny morning. Lyssa and Jason stood on the front porch.

“You’re sure about this?” Jason asked Lyssa.

The equipment van and SUVs were all loaded up. The TAPS team was heading back to the office to review the evidence they’d gathered. All except for Lyssa.

“I’m sure,” Lyssa answered. “I promised not to leave Angie alone. At least not until we can figure out what she should do.”

Jason nodded. “I think we’re all convinced that there’s
paranormal activity in this house—and it could be dangerous. Be careful, Lyssa.”

“I will be,” Lyssa promised.

Jason walked down the steps and got into one of the waiting SUVs. The team drove off.

Okay,
Lyssa thought as she turned back to the house.
Now it’s up to me.

The day passed quietly. Lyssa and Angie didn’t talk much.
We’re both waiting for the same thing,
Lyssa thought.
Nightfall. When the spirit of Eloise Cavanaugh comes out. When the nightmares get real.

Nine o’clock came and went. Then ten and eleven. It seemed to Lyssa that she could feel some kind of pressure building in the house. Like steam in a pot ready to blow its lid.

“I’m sorry, Angie,” she finally said. “I have to get some sleep. Besides, we’ve both got to go to bed sometime.”

“It’s all right,” Angie said quickly. The two were sitting in the kitchen, drinking mugs of cocoa. The living room was much more comfortable. But neither Lyssa nor Angie really wanted to spend any time there. Not with Eloise’s portrait staring down at them.

“I’m tired, too,” Angie admitted. “I’m just so afraid to go to sleep. I wish I knew whether or not I got through to Eloise Cavanaugh last night.”

Together, the two young women climbed the stairs. Lyssa’s feet felt like lead weights. Angie would sleep in her own room tonight. There wasn’t much point in her moving to the spare bedroom. Eloise had proved she could—and would—find Angie anywhere.

“I’ll leave my door open so I can hear if you call out,” Lyssa said. “If the slightest thing happens, you give a yell and I’ll come running.”

“No problem. I’ll scream so loud, the rest of the team will be able to hear me back in Rhode Island,” Angie said. Her lips curved upward, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Great,” Lyssa said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Angie turned away and walked down the hall to her bedroom. Lyssa stood at the top of the stairs and watched her go.

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